


This Feeling of Longing (You're Like Gravity)

by inpiniteu



Category: NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Other Fandoms Not Mentioned in Tags, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inpiniteu/pseuds/inpiniteu
Summary: “So, are you willing to learn loving me, Minhyun-ah?” Dongho asks and if Minhyun notices how his voice is progressively getting shakier, he doesn’t comment on it.Dongho doesn’t know if he should be relieved or frustrated, and at this point, he’s probably a bit of both. “Please, give us a chance.”
Relationships: Hwang Minhyun/Kang Dongho | Baekho
Comments: 18
Kudos: 97
Collections: N.S.S. 2019





	This Feeling of Longing (You're Like Gravity)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shirosayas (landfill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill/gifts).



> To my recipient, I've taken some liberties with the soulmate concept, I hope you won't hold it against me and enjoy it.
> 
> The fic wrote itself literally wrote itself and it was quite the emotional ride.
> 
> Thank you for the amazing prompt and Merry Christmas!

_“If I could get a chance, I would show you,_  
_How much you mean to me, that I’m lucky,_  
_I’m so lucky, being in love with you~”_

Dongho stops the music once the last verse ends, his fingers immediately curling around a pen. He quickly writes down a few notes on his notebook and lets out a relieved sigh once he’s finished. 

Luck and love, two subjects he’s never sure he understood yet still writes lyrics about. Luck, perhaps even more than love, is tricky.

Whenever people ask him if he considers himself lucky, Dongho feels like he's everything but that.

Luck, he thinks, is not something that can be appreciated unilaterally and he generally deflects the question with a shy laugh and a shrug of his shoulders. More often than not, people read between the lines rather well and switch topics with an embarrassed laugh of their own.

He glances at his exposed wrist and puts his head in his hands. If he was lucky, then would he be caught in such a situation, with a soulmate he found and lost—

A strong knock on his studio door makes him jump in his seat and he blinks, one hand coming up to rest on his chest and the pounding heart its hiding.

He isn’t expecting anyone and most people in the company know better than to come and disturb him when he’s working on music, so having a visitor is strange. Only one person comes to mind but there’s absolutely no way _he_ can be here.

Dongho ends up pulling down his headphones around his neck before standing up. There's no point in trying to work again and ignoring whoever is behind the door—not when his uninvited guest isn't showing any sign of relenting.

He opens the door, ready to give whoever is behind it a piece of his mind but the words die on his lips as soon as he’s faced with the grinning face of his best friend.

“Yah, Kang Dongho,” Minhyun says, pushing a plastic bag to Dongho’s chest and inviting himself into the studio. “Could you be any slower? I’ve been waiting forever.”

“What are you even doing here?” Dongho says, stepping aside to let Minhyun come in. “Your office is all the way across Seoul.”

"Can't a man miss his best friend?” Minhyun shrugs and tries to sound nonchalant but the pinkness of his cheeks betray him. They’re not overly sentimental, have never been—at least not with each other. Just like brothers would be. “We haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

Dongho closes the door and sits down on the couch next to Minhyun. “You’re the workaholic businessman stuck in his Gangnam tower,” he jokes, removing Minhyun’s glasses for him and handing them out to make a point. _Who needs to get resting glasses at the age of twenty-six, really?_ Well, Hwang Minhyun for one.

Minhyun puts the pair of glasses in the inside pocket of his suit vest without a word. He’s rolling his eyes while he does so, but there’s a smile on his lips as he corrects, “Financial analyst, Dongho. Not businessman.” 

Dongho doesn’t even bother with an answer. It’s not worth it, trying to have the last word, not when Minhyun is concerned. His big head of a best friend is way too stubborn for his own good. 

He rummages through the plastic bag instead, taking out half a dozen triangle kimbaps and two bottles of freshly pressed juice. “Thanks for the food,” he says as he helps himself to a tuna and mayo kimbap without any other ceremonial.

Minhyun just gives him a smile before picking a salmon kimbap for himself. He’s not even done unwrapping his that Dongho is already reaching out for another one and that makes him break into chuckles. “You haven’t been eating, have you?” 

Minhyun sounds only half-amused, though, and it could be the years of friendship but the worry in his eyes isn’t as well concealed as he thinks it is. 

Dongho waves his concern away. “Working on a new song, so—” He pauses and then opts to just shrug. Skipping meals isn’t something to be proud of, but it’s neither the first nor the last time it’s going to happen and they’re both aware of that fact. There’s no point in trying to fix what can’t be fixed, is there?

Minhyun sighs but doesn’t press the subject any further and Dongho is grateful. A patronizing friend is the last thing he needs right now. “A song for that girl group?” Minhyun asks instead, his eyes fixed on the poster of nine girls smiling brightly on the wall next to him. “Fromis_9?”

Fromis_9 is the newest girl group the entertainment company Dongho is working for as a producer has launched and he’s been entitled to produce their first full album which should be released early spring. It’s an ambitious project and one he’s proud to work on.

He hums lightly and as he looks up from the pile of quickly growing wrappers on the table, his eyes meet Minhyun’s curious ones. 

Dongho likes that his best friend has always shown interest in his craft. He usually doesn’t share much of his unfinished works with anyone but Minhyun has always been an exception. It helps that despite having no musical background, Minhyun has a good ear and has provided good input more than once. 

“Wanna listen to it?” he asks, referring to the song he’s been working on and Minhyun replies with a firm nod, which prompts Dongho to move towards the console. Minhyun follows along, discarding his suit jacket in the process.

“Looks like mister hotshot can’t take the heat,” Dongho teases, his grin threatening to split his face in two as Minhyun narrows his eyes at him. 

“Shut up,” Minhyun grumbles, throwing his now removed tie at Dongho’s face. “It’s just too stuffy in here.”

Dongho disagrees but then again, he’s only wearing a t-shirt, his hoodie discarded somewhere so it doesn’t count. “Ready?” 

He waits for an answer, one that doesn’t come. Instead, he finds Minhyun staring intensely at him or rather, at the dark mark on his wrist. It’s not really awkward, but he has never wished for the temperature to drop as much as he does now. 

More than hiding the mark itself, he wants people to forget that it’s there. He wants Minhyun to forget it’s there.

Without waiting for a reply, he presses a few buttons and the song he’s working so hard on for the past few weeks starts playing. Minhyun comes out of his trance, looking around for a few seconds with wide eyes before he collects himself and plops down on a chair next to him.

“It’s,” Minhyun starts once the song hits its last note and Dongho holds his breath, suspended to Minhyun’s lips as his best friend looks for the right word. “Surprisingly optimistic if I can say so.” 

It’s a brutally honest answer, but Dongho welcomes it. He likes that Minhyun doesn’t sugarcoat his thoughts, that he’s always been real. 

Hwang Minhyun is definitely real, the only constant presence in a life where everyone he has once held close has left him one way or another. First, his father from leukemia and his mother not soon after, from heartbreak. His brother who is a continent away, studying in the US for hopes of a better life and then, there’s Kyulkyung, who—

There’s only Minhyun left. 

Minhyun who is only a phone call away most of the time and would come running if he asked him to.

Minhyun, who, as Dongho glances at the small mark on Minhyun’s inner wrist as his friend reaches out for his bottle of grapefruit juice, is also slowly slipping away. 

Judging by the tiny counter on top of Minhyun’s mark, Hwang Minhyun is going to become a lucky man and meet his soulmate in less than half a year.

In three months and twenty-five days, everything is going to change and the center of Dongho’s world is going to gravitate around someone who is not him.

Someone who will never be him, because he’s not Minhyun’s soulmate.

—

“Yah, Kang Dongho,” Minhyun says loudly, poking Dongho’s bicep over and over again and giggling. “You’re not supposed to sleep in class.”

Dongho groans, swatting his hand away which only serves to make Minhyun giggle louder. “It’s break,” he says in a gruff voice as if that explains everything. It does, to him. “Just let me sleep.”

“What are you doing at night if you’re not sleeping—” Minhyun says, sounding a bit too much like Dongho’s mother for his liking. He opens his mouth but Minhyun suddenly lets out a tiny gasp, pointing at him with his nose scrunched up and wide eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re wan—”

Dongho is about to shut Minhyun up but someone else beats him to it by clearing their throat. Both boys look up but the girl in front of them is only looking at Minhyun. 

The first thing coming to Dongho’s mind as he looks at her is that she’s pretty with her long straight black hair, her round eyes and small pink lips that curves into a sweet smile as she stands in front of their joined desks. 

She’s pretty enough that a few of their classmates stop what they’re doing to look at what’s happening.

He thinks he’s heard a few classmates talk about her in passing—Jung Chaeyeon of class 1-3. 

She’s one of those girls, the ones that no guy in his right mind could and would turn down if they were to confess to them.

“Minhyun sunbae,” she calls in a sweet voice and from the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Minhyun clench his book a bit harder.

“I—” she stutters, and instead of continuing to talk, decides to hand out the letter she was hiding behind her with trembling hands. “Please, accept this letter, Minhyun sunbae.”

Dongho knows Minhyun has been confessed to a few times, has seen the letters he is always rushing to hide in his backpack as if holding them is making his hands burn.

It makes sense for him to be confessed to; Minhyun is one of the best-looking guys in their grade, after all, and being part of a few clubs within their school and always ready for extra-curricular activities has probably rendered him approachable and friendly to most of their schoolmates.

Not that he would know because Dongho doesn’t care about school and what goes on there much. 

He has always been a bit too different—too bulky for anyone to stand next to him comfortably, too shy for people to approach, too lost in his own world of music for them to even bother. People know _of_ him, if only because he’s Hwang Minhyun’s best friend, but no one has ever made the effort to know _him_.

It takes him a few seconds to realize that Minhyun hasn’t taken the letter and Jung Chaeyeon seems to realize he won’t ever do so, retracting her hand and hiding it behind her back. She’s about to turn when Minhyun clears his throat. 

“I can’t accept your feelings, I’m sorry,” he says in a soft voice, just like the one his mother used when she has to calm his younger brother down. The girl nods and Dongho has to give it to her, her smile doesn’t falter. Her eyes, though, are another story. 

He can see that Minhyun truly feels remorseful, and even minutes after she has left their classroom, Minhyun is still staring at the spot where she stood.

“Minhyun-ah.” Dongho doesn’t really know what he wants to say, doesn’t really know what to say in this kind of situation, but what he knows is that the look in Minhyun’s eyes is one he never wants to see again. “Are you going to be alright?”

Minhyun doesn’t answer immediately but Dongho has no problem with that. He doesn’t mind waiting for Minhyun, doesn’t think he couldn’t not wait for him. “I guess,” Minhyun finally says but the words come off shaky and pushes Dongho to put a hand on Minhyun’s shoulder.

“I wish I didn’t have to do that,” Minhyun whispers and he’s clenching his book so hard his fingers are about to snap. “I don’t like rejecting people, Dongho-yah.”

“I know you don’t.” He means that because Hwang Minhyun is annoying and noisy but he’s also the best person he’s ever met. “Maybe, you could—” he starts and something in Minhyun’s eyes almost makes him falter.

 _Almost_.

“You could give them a chance,” he says, looking everywhere but at his best friend. He should be reassuring him, but he isn’t doing any of that right now and as the words continue to tumble out of his mouth, he finds himself unable to stop the trainwreck that’s happening. “I mean, I know you’re _waiting_ but you could get some experience and just—”

“Dongho,” Minhyun interrupts and Dongho takes a deep breath and stops talking. “I _will_ wait.”

Dongho recoils in his seat, the message clear and loud. “I’m sorry, ‘Hyun-ah. I just thought—We’re young, that’s all.”

Too young to commit to the idea of soulmates and blindly trust what fate has in store for them if you ask him about it. 

It’s not uncommon for people to fool around during their teenage years or until they’re about to meet their soulmates, sometimes even after. Dongho doesn’t see any harm in it, can’t see any harm in it when his aunt found herself married to a chronic cheater because of that damn mark on her wrist, can’t believe in eternal love and devotion when the newspapers are full of stories of soulmates matching going wrong—

He doesn’t see any harm in wanting, in loving someone who isn’t his soulmate. In loving someone you have a deep connection with, like a best friend perhaps.

Except there’s harm, he realizes, because this newfound realization of him wanting a chance with his best friend isn’t going to bring him anywhere.

That day, Dongho leaves school with two realizations—Minhyun is a damn stubborn bastard, and this longing he’s feeling for Minhyun is a burden he will have to carry on his own.

—

Dongho wishes the people around him would’ve met Kyulkyung, just so they could remember angels can’t only be found in heaven.

On days like today, though, he doesn’t think that it’s a bad thing if there’s no one around to remember Kyulkyung. Well, it’s isn’t true.

Minhyun remembers her, and that’s why Minhyun insisted on sticking to his side today. Just like every January 13th. The day Kyulkyung passed away.

“How can you drink something so bitter?” Minhyun asks, eyeing Dongho’s mug with distaste. 

Dongho only laughs, clasping his hands over the cup of Americano. He likes his coffee on the bitter side, doesn’t want to get addicted to something artificial like sweetness. “You’re one to talk, grapefruit is just as bitter, you know.”

“It’s not the same.” Dongho raises an eyebrow and waits for Minhyun to elaborate. The pink on Minhyun’s cheeks is oddly similar to the color of his ade, Dongho notices, as Minhyun finally says, “Well, at least, grapefruit is healthy.” 

“Wow, such a brilliant conclusion.” He deadpans and Minhyun’s flush deepens. He looks adorable, Dongho thinks, immediately chastening himself for that thought. Cooing over Minhyun on his soulmate’s death anniversary is reaching a new low—

He had never been able to love Kyulkyung the way she had wished him to and he won’t ever stop blaming himself for not picking her up and letting her get into that damn taxi but she was still important to him. Important enough that he won’t let himself think and long for someone who isn’t her.

Minhyun shaking his arm softly brings him back to reality. “Do you want to get Chinese after? There’s this new mandu place that opened near my place. Really fresh and tasty, you would—” He interrupts himself as if realizing what he’s said. 

Chinese food never tasted the same after Kyulkyung passed away, every mouthful coming with the sour aftertaste of memories so Dongho has been avoiding it for the past two years. 

“It’s okay, let’s go there.” Minhyun doesn’t look convinced so Dongho adds, “I haven’t had mandu in forever, too. Not since Kyulkyung’s death.”

Dongho doesn’t know what clears the guilt in Minhyun’s eyes—his firm yet light tone or the fact that he’s the one who brought Kyulkyung up, but Minhyun is nodding and the furrows between his brows is gone, replaced by a soft smile.

“We can talk about her, you know,” he says, just so the air between them is properly cleared. He appreciates the effort but he isn’t made of glass and Zhou Kyulkyung deserves better than to be forgotten or never spoken of again. “She would’ve liked that, us talking about her like gossip boys.”

Minhyun smiles fondly. “She would have, that little minx. Would have giggled and hid her face before running away to tell Nayoung.”

Dongho breaks into laughter, loud and genuine. It has been a long time since he’s laughed this carefreely, and he supposes she would’ve liked that, too. 

“Maybe your soulmate will be like that, too.” It slips out of his mouth before he can process what he’s just said and he tenses, unsure of how Minhyun is going to react.

Dongho has never brought up the subject of Minhyun’s soulmate since that day, ten years ago. It isn’t exactly taboo but they won’t ever see eye-to-eye when it comes to this and arguing is the last thing he wants or needs.

“Who knows,” Minhyun replies and he sounds like someone stating a fact, rather indifferent. Dongho expected more excitement from someone who is about to meet his soulmate in a few months, especially from someone as dedicated as Minhyun.

He can sense that something is wrong. Rather than ignoring it and protecting himself from a conversation that will only bring him pain and bruised feelings, he asks, just like a good friend would, “You seem nervous.”

Minhyun doesn’t even try to deny it. “Were you scared too?”

He hadn’t been scared, but then again, he hadn’t even cared in the first place. Meeting his soulmate had just been a step he had needed to go through and going with the flow had sounded like the best idea he could have from the start. 

Then again, he hadn’t committed himself to waiting for his soulmate. Wouldn’t have after falling in love with someone else but Minhyun doesn’t need to know that. In the end, he simply hums. 

“It’s weird,” Minhyun confesses. It’s the first time Minhyun sounds unsure about it all and it should be good news but Dongho doesn’t feel any satisfaction at the anxiety that cripples Minhyun’s face. 

“I’m excited but also scared. I have always thought that I’m bound to love my soulmate, you know,” Minhyun says slowly. “After all, if there’s someone out there important enough that I have this thing—” He gestures to the vague direction of his forearm and Dongho’s eyes slightly cloud over. He’s always hated that mark, but today particularly so.

Minhyun’s smile is shaky as he adds, “It must mean something, right? I can’t—I can’t not have feelings for them.”

Dongho hums again, not trusting himself to say anything else. 

Dongho had feelings for Kyulkyung. Tenderness, admiration, and the kind of love you feel for someone you hold dear. He had feelings, but they were never feelings of love.

Sometimes, he wishes he could be selfish and rain on Minhyun’s parade by opening up and being honest about everything—his relationship with Kyulkyung, his feelings, the truth on soulmates.

But that wouldn’t make Minhyun love him more and probably, he knows, make him love him way less. Friendship isn’t what he wants, has never been what he wanted but settling for anything less isn’t an option for him.

So, yes, perhaps, he’s selfish in the end, he thinks, taking a sip of his coffee, but who can blame him when it only takes a smile from Hwang Minhyun to make the world, _his_ world a little bit brighter?

“It’s going to be alright, Minhyun-ah,” is what he settles for with a shaky smile. He isn’t lying, but selfishly, he kind of hopes he was.

Just for a moment and chance to gravitate closer to Hwang Minhyun.

—

Dongho gets home from his afternoon with Minhyun more exhausted than ever.

His plans of crashing on his bed and escape reality for a few hours fly out of the window the moment he sees Jonghyun and Minki hanging out in the living room.

“Wow, you look like shit,” is what Minki greets him with and Jonghyun immediately slaps his arm lightly for that comment, making Dongho crack a smile.

“I now remember why I’m happy you moved out, Choi Minki,” Dongho says in retaliation and he doesn’t know what’s funnier to him—Minki’s indignant face or Jonghyun’s amused one. 

“Rude much,” Minki replies and he’s pouting. Cute, Dongho thinks, but Minki doesn’t need to know that.

Jonghyun seems to think the same thing, laughing at Minki’s expression and openly calling him cute. It seems to be enough for Minki to start beaming again.

Jonghyun then focuses on Dongho and his smile is powerful enough for Dongho to want to start confessing all his deepest secrets. “What’s wrong, Dongho-yah? You look—” he pauses and takes in Dongho’s whole appearance, the slumped shoulders, the unshaven stubble and smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Dongho is about to mention the anniversary of Kyulkyung’s passing before he’s reminded his friends don’t know about her. He’s always been vague about his mark—mentioning a deceased soulmate and leaving it at that. 

Perhaps, he thinks, that’s why they’ve been supportive of his pining over Minhyun, believing he deserved a second chance at love and a life of happiness.

“Minhyun.” Dongho sighs, not noticing the ever-growing concern in both his friends’ eyes as he plops down on the couch between his two friends and groans loudly before repeating, “Minhyun happened.”

“What has that fucker done?” Minki snaps, sounding like he’s ready to go find Minhyun to fight him. The two of them have met a few times and are on cordial terms but Minhyun’s obliviousness has always driven Minki up the wall. That, and Dongho’s martyr tendencies.

Still, despite Minki not completely agreeing with the situation Dongho put himself in, Dongho knows his friend is behind him all steps of the way.

“I can ruin his pretty face if you ask me, okay,” Minki adds as if he had read Dongho’s mind and he throws a pointed glance at Jonghyun. “Jonghyun will help too, _right_?”

Jonghyun nods, though he looks rather reluctant, and Dongho finally cracks a smile.

The thought of both his friends engaging in a physical fight with Minhyun is amusing but if he has to be honest, he doesn’t trust himself to not stand up for Minhyun, which makes him sigh.

That’s his stupid unrequited love talking, he thinks, and isn’t he a complete fool for being whipped over someone who has never looked at him _like that_ and prolonging his own suffering by not even trying to move on?

After all, on top of never being able to love Kyulkyung the way she deserved to be loved, he’s also still unable to get a grasp and pull himself out of the misery he’s brought upon himself. 

Unable to bring himself to confess and face the rejection that would follow.

At sixteen, he thought he could do it—loving Minhyun from afar. At twenty-six, he doesn’t believe so anymore.

Still, he can’t neither confess or give up on his feelings, on _his world_ and that’s what makes everything complicated.

“A month,” he just whispers. “There’s a month left.”

Both Jonghyun and Minki immediately get what it means. “Fuck,” they say at the same time and Dongho would’ve thought these two were soulmates if he didn’t know any better.

“I’m fucked, yeah,” he says with a hollow laugh and right at this moment, he has no choice but to face the harsh truth as he continues, “But it’s not like he was ever going to be mine, after all.”

Jonghyun and Minki don’t say anything but their silence is enough of an answer.

“Let’s get smashed,” Minki finally proposes and Dongho catches Jonghyun’s eyes. The smile his roommate flashes him is enough to bring tears to Dongho’s eyes. 

Dongho doesn’t like alcohol but beggars can’t be choosers. “Yeah, sure.”

—

Barbecue places are awfully crowded on Friday nights. Dongho will make sure to remember that the next time he decides to treat Minhyun for dinner. 

“This suit is going to be a nightmare to clean up,” Minhyun complains, removing his vest and placing it on the chair next to him. “The smell of meat is awfully hard to get rid of.”

Dongho opens the lid of his rice bowl, not paying his friend any attention. “You know you could have told me that before we came in, right?”

“And miss out on you treating me for once? No way. I have dozens of suits but only one best friend.”

Dongho can’t stop himself from snorting. Hwang Minhyun is something else. “Wow, I’m touched. Here I was, thinking you came because you wanted to see me.”

“Of course, I did!” Minhyun says a bit too loudly and his ears immediately flush red as a few patrons turn around to look at him. “It’s only a big bonus my best friend is a really generous man who _insisted_ on paying—I swear, I would have paid otherwise!”

“Whatever.” Dongho is famished and he would rather focus on the plate of meat in front of him rather than Minhyun’s silly antics. “Just drop it and pass me the scissors, will you?”

Minhyun sighs dramatically but does as he’s told and Dongho thanks him quietly, working on cutting the meat quietly.

Meanwhile, Minhyun pulls both his sleeves up, not wanting to dirty what Dongho guesses is an expensive designer shirt. He puts a few slices of onions and some kimchi on the grill and Dongho smiles at how well they work together. 

It has always been like that; the two of them tuned to work in proper sync as an old married couple would. Dongho finds it amusing.

He’s about to comment on it but something on Minhyun’s inner wrist makes him stop in his tracks. His hold on the scissors wavers and he blinks a few times but nothing changes.

The time on Minhyun’s counter has just disappeared, leaving a way too familiar-looking black mark in its place. 

There’s no doubt on what it means, he knows it more than anyone. Minhyun’s soulmate is gone.

Minhyun is too carefree to be aware of it and for a fleeting second, Dongho considers acting like nothing’s wrong, and pretend that tonight isn’t going to change Minhyun’s life forever. 

He can’t, though, because his best friend deserves better so he musters his courage and takes a deep breath.

“Minhyun-ah,” he whispers and Minhyun stops what he’s doing, raising an eyebrow. “I—” he shakes his head and tries again, pointedly looking everywhere but at Minhyun or his mark. “I don’t know how to tell you but _fuck_ —your mark—”

Chopsticks hit the table loudly as Minhyun follows the direction of Dongho’s stare. Dongho closes his eyes, his hands shaking so much he almost drops the pair of scissors. 

“What—How—” Minhyun is babbling, each word coming out shakier than the last. “It’s not real. It can’t be real. Please, tell me it’s not true, Dongho-yah.”

He doesn’t stop pleading, begging for Dongho to tell him it’s a bad joke. If only it could be that easy.

Dongho truly wishes he could make the pain in his eyes disappear but he’s left helpless. “I’m sorry, Minhyun-ah,” he offers and the truth seems to finally hit Minhyun.

“Hey, at least, we’re matching now,” Dongho tries to joke, even forcing himself to chuckle despite the bile rising in his throat. 

But being an insensitive asshole isn’t a role cut for him and he regrets the words as soon as they’re out. His apology falls on deaf ears, though.

Any other day, if the mark on Minhyun’s wrist was still the way it should be and not this ugly back thing, Minhyun would’ve rolled his eyes and whined about him deserving better than his best friend. 

_His_ Minhyun would’ve done so at least, but the Minhyun seated in front of him doesn’t even bat an eyelash. 

Dongho doesn’t know what to do, but is there any point in trying to save this dinner, though, when Minhyun looks like he’s lost everything—and maybe, Dongho figures, he has.

They don’t talk much after that, if at all. It’s too raw, too soon and most of the pork belly they ordered ends up being forgotten on the grill—burned and uneatable.

Minhyun quickly excusing himself and calling for a rain check in an out of ordinary weak voice is what makes Dongho come back to his senses. He knows he should do something, should try to find the right words if they even exist.

But he doesn’t know them and doesn’t know what to do right now except for letting Minhyun go home.

So Dongho lets him do just that and he’s left watching silently as Minhyun puts back on his vest and coat before walking out of the restaurant and away.

Even minutes after Minhyun has left, Dongho still sits there, staring at the space in front of him.

The image of Minhyun, broken and hunched over himself, is going to haunt him for a long time.

—

Minhyun reaches out for his beer bottle for the umpteenth time, taking a long sip. It’s almost empty, Dongho notices, and perhaps, it’s time for Minhyun to stop.

He leans forward to take it away but retracts his hand at the last minute with a shake of his head.

Coming uninvited and bringing booze and chicken had been his idea and even though his friend keeps on gulping down bottle after bottle while leaving the chicken untouched, Dongho can’t find in himself to blame him.

Coping mechanisms are rarely healthy, and Dongho thinks he doesn’t have any rights to judge or say anything considering how he’s dealt with himself all this time, so he just sits by Minhyun’s side and watches him drink while staring into space with a vacant look in his eyes.

They spend a few minutes like this, with Minhyun drinking his heart away and Dongho wondering what he should do or say, if there’s even anything to say. 

In the end, he ends up babbling about everything that comes to mind—his brother’s plans to visit Korea in a few months, how the rent of his flat got raised and how he and Jonghyun are planning on either finding another roommate or moving out, how the song they listened to together a few months back was picked to be Fromis_9’s promo title and he’s excited about it.

Minhyun sometimes hums or nods along, showing he’s listening but he’s far from being his talkative and enthusiastic self. His normal self.

Still, Dongho takes it as an encouraging sign and he continues talking until his throat feels too dry to continue.

Just when he’s about to get up to get a glass of water, Minhyun starts hiccuping and Dongho freezes in place. The tears that roll down Minhyun’s cheeks are breaking his heart and make for a sight he never wants to see again.

Without hesitating, he cups Minhyun’s face with both hands, forcing him to look at him. “I’m here, okay,” he whispers. Sadness should never be this beautiful, he thinks, wiping the tears off with his thumbs slowly. “I’ll always be here for you. You’re going to be fine.”

Minhyun blinks, nods even though the tears don’t stop. “Will I ever find love, Dongho-ah?” he asks, sounding so defeated and lost.

“Of course,” Dongho answers. “You deserve a chance to love and be loved, Minhyun-ah, and you will get it.”

It might not be now, might not be with him, but Minhyun will find love someday. He can bet on it.

“But what if—Maybe you were right, maybe I should’ve given people a chance—”

Hearing Minhyun talk about chances triggers something within him and he feels himself moving forward, not stopping until their mouths meet into the chastest, softest kiss he’s ever experienced.

The world stops right there and then, and when Minhyun starts moving his lips against his, Dongho surrenders.

Ten years of pent-up feelings are poured into that single kiss, are put into every flutter of his lips against Minhyun’s soft ones and he’s trembling as Minhyun coaxes his mouth open.

It’s a first kiss that feels like a last one—one full of longing, unsaid emotions, and uncertainty and when they pull away, Dongho’s eyes are wet.

He blinks, and it only takes him a look into Minhyun’s wide, dazed eyes to crash back to reality and realizes what he’s done.

He jumps off the couch, pointedly avoiding Minhyun’s eyes as he quickly gathers his belongings. 

“Dongho-yah,” Minhyun calls, trying to reach out for him but Dongho shakes his head and steps aside. 

The silence is deafening but he doesn’t hear it over the loud pounding of his heart in his ears. “I can’t—I can’t—” he repeats under his breath, ready to hide from the world, his world until he can wrap his mind around what he’s done.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and it’s so low he’s not convinced Minhyun has heard it. He doesn’t check, though, instead putting his shoes on hastily and getting out of that suffocating atmosphere, the door slamming shut behind him.

Dongho leans against it and he doesn’t even register his jacket falling out of his arms and onto the ground. 

He’s left trying to catch his breath, and as trembling fingers rack through his hair, the only thing registering is that he’s fucked up. Fucked up big time.

—

Three weeks later and he finds himself at the same stop, praying for Minhyun to open the door and give him a chance.

A chance to explain, a chance to mend whatever can be salvaged between them.

There’s thousands of things he wants to say, to confess, to get out of his chest but when Minhyun finally opens the door and looks at him with a blank face, the words die on his lips.

The irony of Minhyun wearing his mask just when he’s finally ready to drop his isn’t lost on Dongho but there’s nothing he can do except hoping for the best, for Minhyun to come back in his life.

“Hey,” he says and it sounds so awkward it’s laughable. Never they have been like this before and it’s all his fault. He will grovel if he has to, but he’s going to fix it. “Can I come in? I want to talk.”

Minhyun sneers. “Did you want to talk, too, when you ignored all my texts and calls?” Dongho doesn’t reply, but Minhyun didn’t seem to expect one, anyway. “Fuck you, Kang Dongho. You got some nerve showing up here when you feel you’re ready and—”

He suddenly deflates, shaking his head as if isn’t worth it to get mad or get his feelings across and Dongho sighs. Tonight isn’t going to be easy but it’s alright. He didn’t expect it to be, anyway.

“Please, Minhyun-ah. _We_ need to talk.” 

Minhyun takes a good look at him, from head to toes and back again. Dongho doesn’t know what he sees but it’s enough for him to step aside and let him in.

Dongho makes sure to avoid the couch, instead opting to sit at the kitchen table. Minhyun follows him there, keeping his distance by leaning on the threshold. “Well, start talking,” he says, arms crossed over his chest. 

He takes in Minhyun’s disheveled hair, his rumped clothes and the slightly dark circles under his eyes and realizes he’s the reason for all of that. 

It saddens him and he’s done beating around the bush. He needs to come clean. “I’m in love with you, Minhyun-ah.”

It comes out more easily than it thought it would and a weight is lifted off his shoulders as soon as the truth is laid out in the open. “I have been in love with you for the past ten years.”

“But Kyulk—” Minhyun tries.

Dongho shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that, has never been like that. It has only been you.”

“It has only been me,” Minhyun says slowly and Dongho watches the myriad of emotions flashing in the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen in silence. Surprise, though, isn’t among them but Dongho expected it. Minhyun has always been the smartest one out of the two of them.

“Always you.”

“And still, you’re the one who left, Dongho,” Minhyun points out, referring to their kiss. He’s merely stating a fact and Dongho looks at his feet for a moment before he finds the courage to meet Minhyun’s eyes.

“It doesn’t excuse anything but I was afraid,” he says. “I had never planned on telling you and it felt like everything was changing, I couldn’t—”

“And now?” Minhyun asks and Dongho just smiles. 

“Now, I’m asking you for a chance.” He doesn’t really know what he wants to say or ask, what he’s allowed to wish for and want for himself but it might as well be his only opportunity so making the best out of it isn’t exactly a bad idea in his opinion. “I’m asking you for a chance to love me.”

“So, are you willing to learn loving me, Minhyun-ah?” Dongho asks and if Minhyun notices how his voice is progressively getting shakier, he doesn’t comment on it. 

Dongho doesn’t know if he should be relieved or frustrated, and at this point, he’s probably a bit of both. “Please, give us a chance.”

“I—” Minhyun starts but he isn’t done yet. “Let me be selfish and try to convince you. Can I—Can I kiss you?”

He looks at Minhyun expectantly, his smile widening as Minhyun nods and this time, as he cups Minhyun’s face and bring their mouths together, there’s no hesitation, no pretending or shying away. 

There’s only Dongho and Minhyun and what could be the start of something. 

Their lips chase each other’s the way he has never been able to chase Minhyun and he makes up for all the time he’s lost, not letting go until air becomes a necessity.

They then break apart and this time, he doesn’t go anywhere. He stays in place, with Minhyun right between his arms, and waits for their fate to be sealed.

He waits and waits again but Minhyun says nothing, lost in thought, and with each second passing his heart shatters a bit more. 

At this point, he thinks, even a rejection would be better than this overwhelming silence. He’s about to voice that thought out but Minhyun beats him to it, “I need time, Dongho-yah.”

Dongho nods. “Okay,” he concedes easily. He’s not in any position to bargain, and they leave it at that. 

Upon leaving the apartment, Dongho wonders if he’s done the right thing by coming clean and begging for a chance. 

While being on speaking terms is better than nothing, gravitating around Minhyun from so far away feels lackluster at best, and what makes it worse is that he doesn’t know if he will be able to get close to his sole reason to live ever again.

He can only hope the odds will be in his favor.

—

Dongho’s eyes don’t move from the clock of the restaurant he’s seated in, grabbing his phone with trembling hands as soon as the clock hits 7 pm. Days like today are always nerve-wracking, but this one particularly so.

He holds his breath as he checks and scrolls down the charts and he thinks he’s about to be sick.

It’s a big day for him, as it marks the release of the song he’s poured his soul, his everything into and seeing it chart on the Top 100 is enough to make his head reel.

He’s made it. His feelings have made it.

He’s given a part of himself, a part of his longing and feelings for one certain Hwang Minhyun to whoever wants to listen and he’s being heard. 

The feeling is incredible, but while he’s happy the song is well-received, there’s only one person he wants to hear from.

The same one he hasn’t heard from in almost two months. When Minhyun had said he needed time, Dongho had understood. He’s respected his wishes and is giving him all the time and space he can but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss his loud, childish _soulmate_.

The soulmate he’s chosen for himself and the only one that should matter.

He’s loved Minhyun in secret for ten years, the longing he felt becoming a part of his life. Two months are nothing and as he takes a sip of his juice cocktail, he thinks he can wait for a lifetime when it comes to Hwang Minhyun.

Fate seems on his side for once, though, as his phone buzzes on the counter and he jumps in his seat.

It’s Minhyun, and he thought he was ready for that moment but he’s not. Instead of checking the notifications, he takes another sip of his drink and lets his mind wander on what Minhyun sent.

He laughs after realizing what he’s doing when the texts are just there, waiting to be opened and he finally takes the plunge.

There’s only two new messages—the first is a screenshot of a stream of Fromis_9’s song, the same song that was released an hour ago, while the second—

The second makes his breath hitch in his throat and he’s left pinching himself, unable to believe that what he’s reading is real.

_“It’s not love yet but I realize I’m lucky to have you. It’s worth something, right?_

_I want to try._

_Call me? Please?”_

Perhaps, he thinks, life has never been about luck in the end. No, perhaps, it has always been about timing and taking chances.

So, Dongho does just that—he takes another chance and waits for Minhyun to pick up the phone. 

He’s nervous while doing so, of course he is, because the future is still uncertain for the two of them but Dongho believes it’s worth it. 

It’s time for his world to finally gravitate around Hwang Minhyun without any guilt or fear.

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who encouraged me and hold my hand during this writing experience, thank you!


End file.
